I’m not one to be mushy or overly affectionate. I’m very emotional and sensitive, but talking about those feelings? That part makes me uncomfortable. So a lot of the time… I just don’t.
With that said, I often wonder if the people who matter most to me truly realize how much they mean. And today, of course, I want to recognize my mom.
My mom and I really are best friends. We do everything together — and now, we even work together. She’s the one I tell all most of my secrets to. We never go a day without talking or seeing each other. My life would have been entirely different if I had anyone else as my mother. She shaped me, fully.
I’ve said before that my love of books has basically dictated my life. It shaped my career path. It’s my biggest passion. And the reason I fell in love with reading in the first place? My mom — who loves books almost as much as I do (and reads them way faster). I grew up on weekly visits to the library with her — trips that continued until I was 21 and landed a job there, finally ending the need for her to check out my books for me.
Even though we had our fair share of shouting matches during my teen years, I’ve never had a better friend than my mother. She’s brilliant. She loves animals as much as I do (and babysits my neurotic dog without complaint). She’s my constant source of advice and support — advice I usually take, except for that one time she warned me not to fall for a guy I met online. (Spoiler: he became my husband. The one time she was wrong!)
I truly don’t know who I’d be without her.
Mom, I’ll always remember calling you crying every single day my freshman year of college, until I moved back home after three months. You were the voice I needed to hear. You were one of the biggest reasons I was so homesick.
I’ll always remember our library visits — how you helped me pick out books and paid off all my fines. You were the one who introduced me to the Alice series, which became one of my lifelong favorites. You also always let me order as many books as I wanted from the Scholastic flyers. My stack was always the tallest in the class when those orders came in.
I’ll always remember when you were a room mom in fourth grade. Every time you came in, you’d leave a little note in my mailbox with a small gift attached — usually one of those tiny stuffed animal keychains from the dollar store. I’d scurry over to my mailbox as soon as you arrived, excited to see what was waiting for me.
I’ll always remember binge-watching Gilmore Girls with you and Bup, laughing out loud at our favorite mother-daughter duo. We even got shirts and tote bags off eBay to celebrate our obsession. Oy with the poodles already!
And while we’ve shared so many big, exciting moments, it’s the little things I remember most.
Those tiny gestures. The quiet traditions. The ordinary days.
They’re what made me realize just how lucky I am to have a mom like you.
Happy Mother’s Day.
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